


The Governess and The Housekeeper

by JamHande



Series: Regency Wives [1]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: F/F, Female Aziraphale (Good Omens), Female Crowley (Good Omens), Ineffable Wives, Not Canon Compliant, Regency
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-06
Updated: 2019-08-18
Packaged: 2020-08-10 20:42:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 17,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20141695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JamHande/pseuds/JamHande
Summary: As her anger simmered, Crowley watched every movement that Aziraphale made. She looked at the angel’s cheeks, reddened from the wind, and despaired. She watched the angel’s plump, delicate hands bring food to her small, full lips, opening just enough to allow a glimpse of a tiny pink tongue. Crowley wondered if Aziraphale knew that her eyes closed in rapture every time she swallowed.





	1. Chapter 1

Aziraphale’s orders had come down from Heaven, along with a new embodiment. This body was quite different to Aziraphale’s previous forms, and she was still adjusting. For one thing, it was extraordinarily young. Aziraphale had no head for human ages -- it all seemed to blend together after a time -- but this one seemed barely twenty, at a guess. Another more concerning aspect was that it was quite small. Oh, there was the general plumpness -- there always was, when Aziraphale inhabited a body. But the form itself was short with what looked like remarkably fragile limbs. “I do hope this one doesn’t fall apart too quickly,” thought Aziraphale, as she rode in the coach to her latest assignment.

She shifted back and forth with the movement of the coach and, once again, felt the gaze of the gentleman seated across from her. The man had been staring throughout the trip; Aziraphale had caught him in the act repeatedly, and it seemed to happen most frequently whenever they hit a particularly large rut in the road. _ Unconscionably rude man _ , thought Aziraphale, as he leered her way when the coach lurched yet again and her entire embodiment jiggled. Not unlike the particularly delectable quince jelly that she’d enjoyed at breakfast. Her eyes closed as a flush spread upon her cheeks at the remembrance. _ Hopefully governesses are allowed quince jelly _, she anticipated.

Aziraphale’s assignment included employment in a Baronet’s household in a remote area of North Yorkshire. Heaven’s instructions were simple enough, if a bit vague; gain employment in the household, earn the trust of Sir Enfield, and influence him towards good _ by whatever means necessary _. It seemed providential that a governess had recently left the household, although perhaps, mused Aziraphale, that had been previously arranged by Heaven. Aziraphale hoped the assignment would prove to be a quick one; every village they’d stopped in along this journey was decidedly backwards, and she doubted there were quite as many comfortable little niceties in this wild-looking area as one might find in London.

The coach was finally slowing to its stop, and Aziraphale breathed a prayer of relief. It had been quite the temptation to speed it along, but she doubted Heaven would approve of such a frivolous miracle. Once the coach had stopped fully, Aziraphale stood and escaped the vehicle, taking care to pointedly ignore the man who’d annoyed her with his staring. She did feel what she suspected was his gloved hand against her skirts, but decided to disregard it as she looked around for her promised transportation to the estate.

An older, rough-looking man approached her. “You the governess,” he questioned.

“Yes,” she squeaked, then cleared her throat.

“Get in the wagon,” he jerked his chin in the direction of the dilapidated conveyance. “I’ll get your things.”

“Thank you,” Aziraphale said to the man’s retreating form, then sighed and commenced her clamber into the wagon. _ Infernal skirt _ , thought Aziraphale, as she finally settled onto the wagon’s bench after the third undignified attempt. _ Hopefully the Baronet is more refined than those in his employ _, she mused as she waited for the driver to return.

She sat quietly, taking in the sights of the small village -- not that there were many. It was even smaller than the last village they’d stopped at, which had the quince jelly. Aziraphale heard the driver drop her bag into the wagon, as well the extremely unnecessary oath he muttered in the process. She wiggled in distaste and turned up her nose. _ Good Lord, this assignment had better earn me a commendation, at least _.

The fellow hopped up into the wagon and took his seat. He lifted the reins and urged the horses into action without even a glance in Aziraphale’s direction. _ At least he’s not the staring type _ , she thought, and relaxed in relief. She spent her time during the drive taking in the decidedly uninteresting scenery, Not that’s God’s handiwork in this area of the world was _ ugly _. But, it did leave something to the imagination. Aziraphale breathed a prayer of repentance for that thought, then perked up once she saw a rambling stone building appear in the distance. It was difficult to see in the descending twilight, but it looked enormous.

“Is that the Baronet’s Estate?’ she asked, turning to look at the driver. 

He seemed surprised by her question. “Whose else would it be?” He leaned over the side of the wagon and spat.

“I’ve never been to this part of the country before, so I really couldn’t say,” retorted Aziraphale, as primly as she could manage.

The man snorted as if he’d found that humorous. “Well, this’ll be interesting,” he muttered.

Aziraphale waited, but the man did not elaborate. She sighed to herself, wondering what Heaven had gotten her into this time. She assumed the rest of the drive would be silent, but at length the man spoke up just before they turned into the drive.

“Fair warnin’, Miss,” he said, not altogether unkindly, “watch out for the Housekeeper. She’s not the sort to take any nonsense, especially not lately.”

“Thank you for the advice,” responded Aziraphale. “But it’s my understanding that I’ll be reporting to Sir Enfield himself, and not dealing with any housekeepers.”

The man chortled at that. “Fair enough, Miss, but all the same, Crowley’s got a sharp bite, so I’d keep fair clear of her.”

Aziraphale stilled, then turned to stare at him. “Did you say … I’m sorry, but do you mean to say the housekeeper’s name is Crowley?”

“Aye, Miss, that’s what I said.” The man began to whistle as they pulled up to the stables.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Crowley’s lip curled as the bell rang, yet again, from the Baronet’s rooms. She continued totaling up the accounts she was working on, deciding the man could bloody well wait. 

A few minutes later, after she heard the bell once more, she slammed the account book closed. Crowley stood quickly, ensuring her ring of keys was still attached to the chain she wore around her waist. All in order. She began the march through the rambling estate home to the Baronet’s sitting room.

She cast her eye on everything as she went. _ Jack will need to be scolded again _, she thought, noting the muddy boots he’d left in the kitchen. She half wondered at times if the hall boy did it on purpose, just to secure her attention. She made a mental note to speak to him after dealing with whatever nonsensical request the Baronet had concocted this time. Hell’s assignments were never fun, but this one had proved to be particularly aggravating.

Crowley reached her destination, then knocked firmly at the door before entering. She was getting rather tired of finding the Baronet in various states of undress. She entered, breathing a sigh of relief to find him fully clothed and at his desk. She curtsied and waited.

“Crowley, is the new governess’s room ready?” the man turned, and took his time letting his gaze travel up and down her lean frame.

“I was unaware that a new governess would be arriving,” she retorted.

“Ah, yes, I may have forgotten to mention it to you. She’ll be arriving this evening. I sent James to pick her up from the village. Please see to her when she arrives.” The Baronet, having apparently seen everything of Crowley that he wanted to see, turned back to his desk.

“There is no surplus room available at present, Sir Enfield, after … “ Crowley trailed off.

“Well, you must put her somewhere,” the gentleman responded testily. “Must I think of everything around here?”

“I’ll see to her, Sir. Will that be all?” Crowley somehow managed to keep her voice even. 

“Yes, yes,” the man gestured her out of the room impatiently, then caught himself. “Oh, her name is Miss Fell, by the way.”

Crowley went cold. “Miss Fell, sir?”

“That’s what I said, Crowley. Is your hearing beginning to go as well as your eyesight?” 

“All in hand, Sir,” Crowley managed to spit out before striding from the room.

_ This had better be a coincidence _, thought Crowley, gritting her teeth.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The driver stopped at a door in the back of the house. “Here you are, Miss,” he said, jumping off the wagon but not showing any signs of helping Aziraphale down. She huffed, then made her descent with as much decorum as the gown would allow. _ At least it’s airy _.

She stood at the back door while he brought her bag around. He walked through the entrance and Aziraphale followed dutifully behind. They passed through a short walkway into a kitchen area. A scullery maid was at the sink, and the man called to her.

“Where’s Crowley at Daisy? Got a delivery for ‘er.” The man still looked amused; Aziraphale stood as tall as she could, making a likely unsuccessful attempt to seem imperious. Her head was still spinning from the first time she’d heard the name Crowley, though, and her heart wasn’t truly in it.

The maid ogled Aziraphale for a beat. Finally she responded. “Upstairs puttin’ the children to bed, said she’d be down shortly.”

James sighed and set the bag down. “Well that’s me off then, I’ve done my duty. Too bad I can’t stay for the fun, Miss,” he said and strolled back out the door.

_ Well _, thought Aziraphale.

Daisy continue to ogle, until a firm tread was heard on the staircase that descended into the kitchen. She turned back to her scrubbing with a vengeance. 

Aziraphale turned in the direction of the footsteps, feeling a curious sensation in her middle when a familiar tall figure appeared. If she’d had any doubt, the jet black gown and burnished hair under the cap would have confirmed it. Crowley gazed at her from behind dark-lensed spectacles, and Aziraphale tried to smother the spark of emotion that rose in response.

“I presume you are the new governess,” Crowley greeted, without a shred of recognition or warmth. Crowley’s eyes flicked up and down Aziraphale’s new form.

“I am,” assented Aziraphale. She stood under Crowley’s gaze, meeting her eye to eye, and trying desperately to keep her features as stony as Crowley’s. She suspected, however, that her lips were beginning to curve in recognition.

“Have you eaten?” Crowley was as naturally imperious as Aziraphale had attempted to be, mere moments before.

“Nothing since breakfast,” sulked Aziraphale. _ Please have quince jelly. _

“Sit,” Crowley ordered, pointing at the servant’s table. Aziraphale sat. Crowley disappeared for a few moments, then reappeared with a small plate piled with food.

“Daisy, you’re done for the evening,” Crowley said to the maid, not looking at the girl. “Go to bed.”

The maid curtsied in Crowley’s direction, then bolted from the room.

Crowley sat the plate in front of Aziraphale, then moved around the table and sat in the seat opposite. Aziraphale eyed the food greedily, before noting with some disappointment that it was very plain fare indeed. Nothing more than bread and cheese, with a small apple.

Crowley watched Aziraphale examine the food. “Well, Miss Fell? Are you hungry or are you not?”

Aziraphale looked at Crowley, wondering at the oddness of her tone. “Crowley -- “ she began, before feeling a foot lightly kick her leg under the table. Aziraphale was taken aback, until Crowley gave the old signal, the signal they’d developed a hundred years since. A knuckle to the ear. _ Others are listening _.

Aziraphale’s eyelids fluttered in surprise. Who would be listening in this house, and for what? Clearly most of the household was on its way to bed, if not there already. She nodded in understanding, then began to eat her way through the tedious meal.

Aziraphale was full of questions, but Crowley continued to sit in silence, watching her eat every morsel. There was no enjoyment to be had in this meal.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Crowley’s insides were ablaze. Who had sent Aziraphale here, and why, and _ what was this new form of hers about _ ? Although to be fair, Crowley knew the answer to the first question. Aziraphale followed Heaven’s dictates to the letter. Crowley cursed Heaven for sending the angel here, and then cursed them for giving her that body. _ Do they know what they are dealing with here _, fumed Crowley to herself.

As her anger simmered, Crowley watched every movement that Aziraphale made. She looked at the angel’s cheeks, reddened from the wind, and despaired. She watched the angel’s plump, delicate hands bring food to her small, full lips, opening just enough to allow a glimpse of a tiny pink tongue. Crowley wondered if Aziraphale knew that her eyes closed in rapture every time she swallowed.

_ This will not do, _ thought Crowley. _ This will not do at all. _

Crowley’s thoughts whirled as she pondered how to handle this. She had presumed her assignment here nearly over, especially after the recent incident involving the latest governess. But this turn of events threatened to upend all her hard work, and she did not want to spend one second more in this household than necessary.

Aziraphale had finally finished the small meal, and leaned back in her chair. “Thank you, Crowley, that was … quite edible.” Crowley watched Aziraphale’s eyes dance and swore under her breath.

“Time for bed then.” Crowley realized that there was only one course of action open to her at present if she wanted to control this situation. She picked up Aziraphale’s bag and turned to the staircase. “Follow me.”

Aziraphale followed obediently. Crowley felt the angel’s confused gaze on her back, but she didn’t know when or how they’d be able to discuss this. She marched the angel all the way up to the top level of the servant’s quarters.

Crowley stopped at the end of the hallway, in front of a door, and spoke loudly, as if she were announcing it to the entire floor.

“Since we have a shortage of rooms at present, you’ll be with me, Miss Fell.”

Crowley opened the door and led Aziraphale into her bedroom.


	2. Chapter 2

Aziraphale stepped into the bedroom, slightly breathless after the long climb up the stairs. She watched as Crowley picked up a lit candle from a table in the hallway and brought it into the room. The demon set the candle down on the bedside table, then turned back to shut the door behind them.

“Crowley --” began Aziraphale, in the normal tone she always used to greet her friend. Well, not _ friend _. Crowley was more of a … Aziraphale didn’t know what to call her. But Aziraphale couldn’t stop smiling any more than she could stop her hair from radiating its golden sheen.

Crowley stepped forward quickly and grasped Aziraphale by the shoulders. Her fingers pressed into the angel. Crowley leaned forward, putting her mouth close to Aziraphale’s ear. “We cannot talk safely here,” she whispered, hotly.

“But, Crowley,” continued Aziraphale, feeling more confused than ever. “Whatever in the world is the matter --”

Crowley squeezed Aziraphale’s shoulders hard and hissed. Aziraphale flinched and her mouth dropped open in shock. She suspected that, underneath her jacket and dress, pink marks were blooming on her body’s delicate skin. Crowley hadn’t acted this way since -- well, it’d been centuries.

Crowley winced and eased her hold, then used her thumbs to gently stroke circles around the spots on Aziraphale’s shoulders that she’d gripped. She whispered again in Aziraphale’s ear, warm and low. “I’m sorry for that, Angel. But you must keep your voice down.” She continued rubbing the angel’s shoulders.

Aziraphale’s thoughts were whirling. There must be more to this assignment than Heaven had let on. She whispered to Crowley: “Are you in danger?”

Crowley paused, lips almost curving into a smile, then murmured: “I am safe enough, but I do wish you hadn’t taken this position.” Crowley paused, then peered into Aziraphale’s eyes. “Do you trust me, Angel?”

Aziraphale wasn’t sure how to answer that question. She blinked, trying to get a look at Crowley’s eyes, which was difficult at the moment. Aziraphale longed to take the spectacles from Crowley’s face, as she’d done in dozens of previous meetings when the demon hadn’t been quite so _ intense _. Her gaze dropped to Crowley’s lips, which were set in a hard line.

Aziraphale decided to sidestep the question. “Crowley, what is it? Please tell me, I am more than capable of defending myself.”

Aziraphale sensed, more than heard, a soft groan from Crowley’s lips as the demon leaned forward until their foreheads touched. Crowley continued to hold Aziraphale’s shoulders, but gently, now.

After a few moments, by which time Aziraphale was thoroughly confused, Crowley leaned back. She spoke in a normal tone of voice. “Right, let’s get that jacket and dress off of you, it will need to be laundered. Look at the state of that hem, Miss Fell. It’s simply unacceptable.” As she spoke, Crowley began to peel the jacket from Aziraphale’s shoulders and down her arms. Aziraphale was too boggled to resist.

Once the jacket was removed, Crowley turned Aziraphale around and began working her way down the buttons at the back of the angel’s dress. Her movements were sure and methodical, but Aziraphale sensed that the demon’s fingers were trembling. Crowley pulled the dress from Aziraphale’s shoulders, then down the rest of the angel’s frame until it pooled at the angel’s feet.

“Step back,” Crowley ordered. Aziraphale stepped out of the dress, completely thrown and unable to think of anything other than following Crowley’s orders. Crowley was flushed, and Aziraphale felt the knot of worry that had lodged in her middle growing larger. The angel turned back to face Crowley and waited for the demon’s next instruction, feeling goose flesh rise on her arms as she stood in her petticoat and stays.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Crowley was beside herself. The angel was here, in this house, with that man nearby. Sir Enfield’s eldest son -- or rather, adopted son, Theodore -- was pure evil, and then some. Crowley would know, wouldn’t she? And with the angel looking like that … Crowley took in every bit of Aziraphale’s form, up and down, standing there in her undergarments. Crowley saw the dimpled elbows, the crease in the angel’s upper arms where the chubbiness folded in upon itself. The way her flesh plumped out from the firm press of the stays. How her hips flared out, soft and round, from her waist. Crowley doubted that any of the angel’s dresses were designed to hide her body -- it simply wasn’t the fashion. Aziraphale was, from head to toe, a treat, and seemed intentionally designed to appeal directly to that man’s tastes. Crowley had managed to escape the worst of his attentions thanks to her hard leanness, although _ still _, she’d struggled. Theodore could charm Lucifer himself, and if Crowley’d had to fight his charm, she didn’t want to think about what could happen to Aziraphale.

Crowley noticed with sinking regret that the angel was starting to look truly terrified. The demon believed, with good reason, that someone was listening to their conversation. The difficulty was that Crowley didn’t know whether they were her own spies or Theodore’s. One of the first things she’d done after the last governess left -- or rather, was carried out -- was plant eyes in every room. She’d needed to know his next target, and meant to protect the children from him at all costs. 

“Turn around, Miss Fell,” Crowley instructed and breathed a sigh of relief when the angel obeyed immediately. Crowley tugged at the string that held the angel’s stays, loosening them enough so they could be slipped off. Meanwhile, Crowley spoke into Aziraphale’s ear as low as she could.

“I’m going to protect you, angel. I will arrange it so that we have the same half-day off. Until then, please trust that every instruction I give is for your own good. Nod if you understand.”

Aziraphale nodded, and Crowley noticed that the angel was trembling. Crowley retrieved a nightdress and lifted it over Aziraphale’s head. “Arms up,” she instructed, and the angel’s arms lifted at once. Crowley breathed a bit easier as she helped Aziraphale into the gown. The demon smoothed it down Aziraphale’s side, feeling a soft roll of flesh underneath the spot where her hand rested.

“Into bed with you, there’s a love.” Crowley felt a surge of some unidentifiable emotion as Aziraphale scurried to do her bidding. She couldn’t remember a time when the angel had been so compliant. Perhaps it had something to do with this new body. Crowley stood for a moment, with her hand at her stomach, and breathed deeply.

“Aren’t you coming?” Aziraphale’s voice was low and tremulous.

“Of course, Miss Fell, in just a moment. Try to get some rest now. Tomorrow will be a long day.” Crowley watched as Aziraphale turned to face the wall and plumped up a pillow to rest her golden-haired head upon. 

Crowley made sure that her room was locked before changing into her own nightdress. She settled herself into the bed next to Aziraphale, then leaned over to blow out the candle. She turned onto her back, so she could stare at the ceiling and start planning how to take care of the angel and the children.

They laid together in the cold bed. Crowley could _ feel _ Aziraphale’s thoughts whirling. The angel shifted, turning her body to face Crowley’s. The demon braced for more whispered questions, but Aziraphale merely murmured: “Are you chilled, Crowley? I know you don’t like that, can I help?”

Crowley’s entire body tensed, but she murmured her assent. She felt the angel’s warm softness press against her. She turned to face Aziraphale.

“I do believe you will like the children, Miss Fell, they are rather winsome,” Crowley said quietly.

“Oh, I do hope they will love me, Crowley,” the angel said, with notes of both worry and hope in her voice.

“I don’t believe anyone could fail to love you, Miss Fell.” Crowley chuckled lowly. She smiled when she felt the angel’s pleased wiggle.

“Crowley,” continued Aziraphale, “Tell me about them.”

Crowley obeyed, and the pair talked together into the night, just like old times.


	3. Chapter 3

Aziraphale stood before Sir Enfield, attempting to appear staid and responsible. The older gentleman did not seem to be convinced, however, if his continued winking and chuckling in her direction were any indication. He seemed completely guileless, and Aziraphale wondered why he had caught Heaven’s attention. He also did not seem particularly dangerous, which caused Aziraphale to wonder what Crowley was on about last night. 

Crowley had been so odd this morning; she’d chosen one of Aziraphale’s dresses for her, then miracled adjustments to it. The garment was now markedly darker and covered a great deal more of the angel’s decolletage. It was also dreadfully old-fashioned; not that Aziraphale cared overmuch. And at breakfast with the rest of the servants, Crowley had ensured that Aziraphale did not get a single bite of anything truly tasty to eat. The demon had sat at the head of the servant’s table and announced that this household was not like others, which allowed _ certain _servants far too many privileges. No one dared to pass Aziraphale any food without Crowley nodding approval. The angel had sat in silence, eating her very dry rolls and sipping tea, slowly simmering with resentment as she watched others indulging in raspberry preserves which looked absolutely luscious.

Aziraphale tried to forget her annoyance with Crowley and focused on the reason she was here. “I am pleased you could join our household so quickly, Miss Fell,” Sir Enfield said, his eye carefully roving over her frame. “Crowley has been watching over the children, but she lacks a certain _ motherliness _ . I do hope that your presence will rectify that.” The gentleman stood and approached her. “My poor children have been without a _ good _maternal figure since my sainted wife departed to her reward some years ago.” He smiled down at Aziraphale and cocked an eyebrow; she couldn’t decide whether his look was meant to indicate tenderness or something slightly naughtier.

“I am eager to meet the little ones,” Aziraphale piped up. “Do they require schooling? I can teach them -- “

Aziraphale’s statement was interrupted with a burst of laughter from the gentleman. “Teach them? Oh my dear, all I require is warm maternal guidance. I can see already that you are brimming with it. The children will respond to your tenderness at once, I am sure. Oh, if you want to teach the girls a bit of embroidery or something, I’m sure that would be right and proper. But young Allen has his own tutor, so you needn’t worry your pretty head.”

Aziraphale nodded her head in understanding, but fumed internally. _ Pretty head indeed. Where do you think Pythagoras got his theorem from, you old goat? _

The gentleman continued on, still chuckling a bit. “Now, before we continue any further, I should inform you that my late wife’s son from her first marriage lives with us. He is quite a bit older than the other children, and far beyond any need of a governess. Theodore is older than even you are, my dear. I doubt you will see him around much, but, if you do …” here the gentleman stalled, appearing unsure how to proceed. “Well, he’s a gentleman, so all you must do is treat him as such and you’ll have no concerns.”

_ Aha _ , thought Aziraphale. _ Perhaps this Theodore is the reason Crowley is acting so strange. _

“At any rate, let’s ring for the children, shall we? I’m sure they’re as anxious to meet you as you are to meet them.” Sir Enfield moved to pull the bell cord.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Crowley’s nerves were strung tight. The children had noticed, and were uncharacteristically quiet as she readied them for the day. The girls kept glancing at her, then each other, and Allen simply looked down at his feet as if to escape from her dark mood. She struggled to put on a happier look. _ They’re children, it’s not their fault _, she told herself. She sighed in relief when a housemaid brought in their breakfast; the mood was broken and they started chattering again.

She watched them all as they ate. The youngest girl, Sarah, bore a remarkable resemblance to Aziraphale, with rosy red cheeks and blond ringlets. And oddly enough, her older sister Mary had a slightly thinner countenance and auburn hair. Crowley mused that they could have been their own children -- then caught herself. _ What nonsense _. The elder boy, Allen, was dark-haired and growing tall, and full of fun with just a bit of mischief added for spice. Crowley couldn’t help it if she indulged his devilry sometimes.

_ I dearly wish I could get them out of this house _ , Crowley thought to herself. Then thought, _ A demon shouldn’t care about such things. _ Perhaps Aziraphale could help her figure out a way through this mess. Perhaps she was more worried than she needed to be about the angel’s sudden appearance here. It wasn’t that Theodore could physically harm Aziraphale -- even if he did manage to harm the angel bodily, it was simple enough to request a new one. What terrified Crowley was that the man seemed anointed to drag others down to Hell with him. She’d wondered more than once if he were truly human. The idea of Aziraphale falling into his clutches -- Crowley shuddered as this thought furthered her descent into a cyclone of disquiet.

The housemaid reappeared to inform Crowley that Sir Enfield wanted the children brought to him in the sitting room. Crowley nodded curtly. _ Let us hope for a miracle _.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Aziraphale sat in the light from the window, beaming radiant joy as the children encircled her. Sir Enfield and Crowley looked on as she effortlessly took the children into her charge, and they immediately responded as if they’d loved her forever. Sir Enfield sighed in contentment, and murmured to Crowley: “See what a truly _ warm _ woman can achieve, Crowley? I’m sure you will be glad to return to your more appropriate duties.”

Crowley felt a sudden desire to bite the man, hard. She couldn’t deny his words, though. The children were enraptured with Aziraphale. Who wouldn’t be? They seemed to have forgotten Crowley already, although she’d been the one taking care of them, making sure they were fed and clean and comforted through recent nightmares. Crowley sighed to herself. _ At least now I’ll have more time to keep an eye out for trouble _.

They watched as Aziraphale laughed at something Allen had said; her laughter was a light tinkling sound that lifted the spirits of everyone in the room just a notch. _ She truly is made for this _ , thought Crowley, trying to push the bitterness away. A moment later, she felt the hackles on her neck rise as a particular presence entered the room. _ Him _.

Theodore ambled into the room, looking every bit the fine gentleman. “No one told me there was a party,” he said with a sparkle, “else I’d have brought chocolates.”

“Theodore,” cried Allen. “Come meet Miss Fell!” The younger boy ran to grab Theodore’s hand and pulled him in Aziraphale’s direction. Every muscle in Crowley’s body tightened as she watched this play out.

Aziraphale’s face wore a look of complete innocence and trust as the pair approached. She smiled that angelic smile, and Crowley was stunned to feel tears prick her eyes. She noticed through her haze that Sir Enfield also had a look of worry on his face.

“Miss Fell, what a delight to meet you.” The man’s manners were perfect; he bowed in deference, without undue flirtation. “I do hope you will settle happily into our home, please do alert me if there’s anything at all that my dear father cannot provide and I will attend to it at once.”

Crowley watched as Aziraphale took him in. The slightly curled, brownish hair. The handsome face. The perfect air and form of an English country gentleman. _ Please, please don’t let her be taken in, _ Crowley thought. Aziraphale’s gaze drifted from his eyes down to look demurely at the rug. 

“I’m pleased to meet you, Sir, and thank you for your kind offer of assistance. I am quite sure that Sir Enfield will be more than helpful if I am in need of anything at all.” Aziraphale’s eyes flicked up again, and Crowley thought she saw a hint of admiration in them.

“Oh but you must call me Theodore, if we’re to be friends. I do hope we can be friends, Miss Fell. It can be so dreary out here in the country and one needs all the little niceties that can be found. I’m sure my father will provide you with everything you _ need _, but I am much more interested in providing whatever little treats might tempt you the most.”

Aziraphale paused at that, then spoke after some thought. “I did taste a delightful quince jelly yesterday, and rather wondered if I might ever be allowed to enjoy it again.”

Theodore smiled, and nodded. “I shall see to it at once. Good morning, and I hope to see you again before day’s end.” Theodore turned and left the room, looking like the cat that ate the cream.

_ Satan preserve me _, thought Crowley.


	4. Chapter 4

Crowley stood trembling in her tiny office. She’d just had a scene with young Jack over his muddy boots. She knew that a dirty kitchen floor was irrelevant to her current quandary, but she’d needed to vent her anger _ somewhere _ . The poor hall boy had been nearly in tears after the tongue-lashing she’d given him. She’d threatened him with a real lashing, too. Barely fourteen, he was, and far from home, and Crowley’d not needed to treat him like that. _ The staff are beginning to truly despise me _ , thought Crowley, as she sat down to her desk. _ He probably misses his mother _. A wave of guilt washed over her. She let it settle into her chest, because -- frankly -- she deserved to feel it.

Her thoughts turned to her real problem. Aziraphale. Sir Enfield had smiled and tutted and winked at the angel so much that Crowley knew her orders from Hell were being thwarted once again. _ Turn Sir Enfield towards the bad by means of any temptations at hand _, was their instruction. It had seemed simple enough. The old man had turned out to be slightly lecherous, with a tendency towards overindulgence. Crowley should’ve been gone from this place weeks since. But -- here Crowley groaned at her own weakness -- she’d found three innocent children in this house with an elder brother that had already gone quite as bad as most humans could. Her instructions seemed irrelevant now.

_ Hell will not be pleased _ , she thought to herself. _ Of course, Hell is never pleased. _ She could tell them the truth: that an opposition force had been sent to turn Sir Enfield to the good and undone all her work. If she had any sense at all, she’d make that report now and move on from this place.

She sighed in resignation, then sat at her desk to read through her account book. She found nothing suspicious there -- yet.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Aziraphale had spent midday watching over the children -- and fretting about Crowley. The children were a delight, although still children, and therefore prone to accumulate grime. After a single hour in the garden, they’d brought her plucked flowers, damp with dew (which had mussed her gown), various rocks covered with dirt (which had soiled her hands) and a frog (which Aziraphale had agreed to admire only from a distance). She’d been quite relieved when Allen’s tutor came to take him away. She had then persuaded the girls to retire indoors for a needlework lesson.

Aziraphale was fairly certain now that Theodore was at the root of Crowley’s fear. She’d watched the demon’s face after the young man had sauntered from the room. She dearly wished she could find a way to calm Crowley. Aziraphale knew the demon too well to brush aside the young man as harmless, but she also wondered if the root of Crowley’s fear wasn’t something else entirely.

Aziraphale eventually noticed young Sarah’s eyelids drooping, and decided that enough needlework had been done for now. She let the young girls play in their rooms until a maid carried in afternoon tea. Aziraphale smiled as Sarah’s eyes lit up and her childish chatter returned. If only it were so easy to improve the mood of a certain demon.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Crowley was only slightly relieved when Theodore did not show up again that evening. She’d been expecting him to return all day. She’d imagined it again and again: Theodore bringing Aziraphale the promised treat, ingratiating himself completely, and then finding a way to manipulate the angel into his latest scheme. Crowley’s nerves were tight that evening when she retired to her room.

Aziraphale was already there, struggling to find her way out of the gown that Crowley’d buttoned her into this morning. Crowley softened a bit at the sight. She shut and locked the door behind her before turning to the angel.

“Here, let me help you. You’ll rip the seam if you’re not careful, Miss Fell.” Crowley turned her attention to the buttons at the back of the dress and tried not to think about the image of the angel’s remarkably delicate hands attempting to undo them.

“Oh, _ thank you _ , Crowley. I was on the verge of … ” Aziraphale stopped before the word _ miracle _escaped her mouth, but they both knew what she’d been about to say. 

“You should let me take care of these things, Miss Fell,” murmured Crowley, her lips near the Angel’s hair. All the buttons were free now, but she let her hands rest on Aziraphale’s shoulders for a moment. _ Just for a moment _ , thought Crowley. _ Just one _.

Aziraphale seemed to understand, and she allowed Crowley to rest there. Eventually the angel’s tiny hand reached up, and Crowley felt a finger brush softly against her own. “Best we both get some rest, don’t you think, Crowley?” Aziraphale’s voice was low and soothing, and Crowley felt herself melt a bit further.

“Indeed, it’s been a long day.” Crowley removed the rest of Aziraphale’s outer layers, and again helped her into a nightgown. “I’m sure it’s quite hard work, being a governess,” Crowley nearly growled.

Aziraphale’s eyelids fluttered in amusement. “Naturally, although perhaps the work is not quite as arduous as that of a housekeeper.” The angel’s smile was beautiful, and all for Crowley. This was a bit more than the demon could bear for a moment, so she closed her eyes. She felt the angel’s hands reach up to her temples; Crowley sighed as she felt the spectacles being removed from her face. 

“Why don’t you change for bed, then I’ll brush your hair?” Aziraphale offered. 

Crowley nodded, too weak to refuse. “It would be a help,” she said.

Aziraphale grinned and went to sit on the bed. She waited while Crowley changed, then patted the edge of the bed in front of her. “Bring me the hairbrush, Crowley, would you?” Crowley obeyed both instructions and felt herself beginning to unwind in the presence of the only being that had ever been able to calm her. 

Aziraphale’s tiny hands combed through her hair, looking for pins. Once they were all gone, she began pulling the brush in slow, languorous strokes through Crowley’s hair. “It’s quite a nice color, really,” whispered Aziraphale. “It shines in the candlelight.”

Crowley huffed. “I’ve been told it’s the color of hellfire, Miss Fell. Hardly what one would call ‘nice.’”

Aziraphale didn’t reply to that, but kept up the soothing strokes of the brush until all of the demon’s hair was lying, calm at last, against her shoulders. Aziraphale set the brush down and began working her fingers again, dividing the hair into parts.

Crowley startled and began to turn. “I think that’s enough, now.”

The angel shushed her gently. “I’m just going to braid it so it doesn’t get mussed. Hold still.”

Crowley obeyed, again. “Oh, Angel,” she breathed. “I just wish I knew what to do.”

Aziraphale’s gentle fingers pressed on her scalp as she tugged the parted hair into a loose braid. She spoke in a low murmur. “Just rest now, Crowley. When’s our half-day?”

“Thursday,” moaned Crowley. _ Three days away _.

The angel hummed behind her. “All done, Crowley,” she spoke in a normal volume. “Now blow out the candle, this governess is tired.”

Crowley wondered to herself how she, who had vowed to protect this frail-looking angel, was meekly following her third order of the evening.

“Yes, Angel,” she whispered, and climbed into bed.


	5. Chapter 5

Crowley sensed, more than heard, a cry from one of the girls. She scrambled out of the sheets, frantically trying to find the slippers she’d left next to the bed. At another cry from downstairs, she gave up the search and rushed to open her bedroom door in her bare feet.

Aziraphale must have heard it too, because she was trailing on her heels. The angel had grasped a bit of Crowley’s gown so that she wouldn’t tumble down the stairs in the dark. The two hurried into Sarah and Mary’s room to find the youngest girl in what looked to be the midst of a nightmare.

“Miss Smith … fire,” Sarah cried out, as she thrashed back and forth under the covers. Crowley sprung to the bedside and lifted the girl to her chest. Crowley wrapped her arms around Sarah and started murmuring in her ear to wake her up.

“It’s just a dream, Sarah, wake up now. I’m here, it’s just a dream.” Crowley comforted the girl while her cries of terror turned to tears. Mary was awake now, and standing next to the angel. She was watching fearfully as her sister sobbed from fright. Crowley watched Mary’s small hand slip into the angel’s; Aziraphale squeezed it gently and looked down with a reassuring smile.

Sarah had finally woken up completely. “Want Miss Fell,” she said, pointing to the angel. The child reached out her arms to Aziraphale, turning away from Crowley. Aziraphale let go of Mary’s hand and took the child into her arms.

“There there, Sarah, it’s alright now. It was a dream, and Crowley and I are here.” Aziraphale stroked the child’s back gently, peering at Crowley. She caught the demon’s gaze, then looked pointedly at Mary. The child stood alone, and looked just as terrified as her sister. Crowley shook off her twinge of jealousy and went to hold the older girl’s hand.

Crowley pointed Aziraphale to a chair by the banked fireplace. The angel sat down, letting the young one settle in her lap. “Now, Sarah, you’re safe and the dream is over. Do you want to talk about what scared you so?” 

Crowley’s eyes went wide and she shook her head at the angel. Aziraphale seemed not to notice. The angel merely waited while the child struggled to find the words.

“Miss Smith … Miss Smith was on fire,” sobbed the poor mite. Aziraphale’s eyes went soft and sad, and finally looked up at Crowley.

“Miss Smith was our governess before you,” offered Mary. Crowley closed her eyes and tried to calm her rising panic.

The angel spoke with a tone of concern: “I see, Mary. Thank you for explaining. Did Miss Smith get hurt in a fire?” 

Crowley opened her eyes back up. Mary was nodding her head slowly, and looked on the verge of adding to her sister’s tears. Crowley knelt down to take the older girl in her arms. She watched as Sarah sniffled, quietly now, on Aziraphale’s lap.

“I’m so sorry that happened,” continued Aziraphale. “Did you girls see the fire?”

Mary shook her head to that. “Theodore told us,” she whispered. “He said she went mad.”

Aziraphale’s gaze jumped to Crowley’s.  _ Please, Angel _ , thought Crowley.  _ Please be as clever as I hope you are _ .

The angel’s face was rather blank now, and Crowley couldn’t judge what she was thinking. Aziraphale continued to hold Sarah -- who was quite a bit calmer now -- and placed a gentle kiss on the top of her head.

“Perhaps it’s best if I stay here with you girls the rest of the night,” Aziraphale finally spoke. “I’ll sit here by the fireplace while you two rest. How does that sound?”

Little Sarah’s head nodded. “Please stay, Miss Fell,” she managed in between yawns.

“Can Crowley stay too?” Mary asked, still holding the demon’s hand.

Aziraphale’s gaze met her own. Crowley huskily replied: “I can stay.” She breathed to gather herself, then ordered in her normal brisk tone. “Now back into bed with both of you.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sir Enfield was all apologies the next morning when Aziraphale brought up the night’s events. “Oh my dear Miss Fell, I should have told you, but I’d hoped the girls had forgotten … “ The man trailed off, then changed his tack. “It was a dreadful thing, really, the poor woman was quite deranged. Nobody’s fault, of course, but it did cause quite a bit of trouble for us. I would’ve hoped that  _ Crowley _ would inform you, but evidently I was mistaken.” The man was trying on a look of annoyance that he couldn’t quite seem to carry off with Aziraphale’s blue eyes gazing up at him.

Aziraphale responded gently but firmly. “I report to you, Sir Enfield, at least that was my understanding when I took the position. An employer should keep his charges informed of anything that might affect their role. Or am I to understand that I report to Crowley now?”

The man blustered and flushed. “No, no, of course not. You’re quite right, Miss Fell. Please do forgive an old gentleman’s foolishness, I do wish to see you quite as happy as possible in our little household. Please, is there anything I can do to convince you to remain with us?”

Aziraphale hadn’t even been thinking of leaving, but decided to use the situation to her advantage. “Perhaps it’s best if you put a bed for me in the girls’ room, Sir Enfield, so they do not need to suffer needlessly should any further nightmares occur.”  _ And let us hope Crowley’s protectiveness allows it _ , she thought to herself.

“Of course, of course,” Sir Enfield replied, beaming in obvious relief. “I’ll instruct Crowley to manage it immediately.”

Aziraphale judged it appropriate to just barely brush the gentleman’s sleeve with her hand, then give him a saintly smile. “Thank you for your kindness, Sir Enfield,” she murmured. She let her gaze drift down to her shoes, then glanced back; she felt a certain smugness at the gentleman’s countenance.  _ He looks half in love already _ , she thought.  _ Heaven will have me out of here in no time _ .

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Crowley swung between terror and solace as she carried out Sir Enfield’s order. On the one hand, the children would be calmer, and likely sleep better, with Aziraphale in their room at night. On the other, all of them would be alone, and without Crowley’s protection.  _ And I will be alone again in bed _ , she thought, then stopped herself. No use even going down that road.

_ Good thing angels and demons don’t need sleep _ , she mused as she carried out the rest of her household duties. The rest of the staff seemed subdued, and Crowley was grateful for it. Her nerves were still wrung tight; she was loath to even speak to them lest she lash out without cause. She’d allowed Jack a bit of extra bacon at breakfast to make up for the kerfuffle yesterday. No one had mentioned it, but she’d noticed the staff looking at each other with relief.  _ The sooner I’m out of this house, the better off they’ll all be. _

She was outside, helping one of the housemaids beat the dust from a rug, when she heard a horse approaching. Her head snapped up, and although she couldn’t see well from behind her spectacles, she knew that it was Theodore. He’d returned, likely with the promised jelly, and Aziraphale was currently alone in the garden with the children. Crowley left the maid instructions to have Jack help her carry the rug back in when she was done, then practically sprinted away.

As she rounded the corner of the stone house, she groaned at the sight that greeted her. Theodore, his horse abandoned several yards behind him, stood in front of Aziraphale. Crowley watched as he bowed and offered a small item to the angel. Crowley stood, wild-eyed, as Aziraphale sat motionless for several moments. The angel’s tiny hand finally reached out and accepted the proffered gift. Crowley’s middle felt like it was turning to stone when she heard that familiar tinkling laughter, and watched Aziraphale’s hand, empty now, reach out to Theodore as she allowed him to kiss it.


	6. Chapter 6

Aziraphale could sense love. She could sense a great deal of it coming from the children, even after only a few days in their presence. It practically poured from their hearts as they played nearby. She’d sensed it in the other servants; not towards her, perhaps, but it was there in other ways; such as the care James took with the horses, and Cook’s pride in her recipes. And although Aziraphale would never whisper a word of it to Crowley, she’d even felt hints of a love-struck crush blooming in young Jack towards the demon.

It was, therefore, a bit of a shock to her when she realized that she had not observed one whit of love coming from Theodore. The young man appeared to Aziraphale to be perfectly proper, perfectly human. But she simply couldn’t sense the emotion in his presence. He certainly wasn’t the first human she’d met that had lacked love. One encountered all sorts over time. But perhaps this new form had given her some insight into her own nature, because she suspected that it wasn’t love itself that she had been sensing all these years, but rather the _ giving _ of it.

As she watched the young man carefully kiss her hand, she realized that, more likely than not, Theodore felt love; it was just that all of it was channeled back into himself. She saw his perfectly coiffed hair; his hands, which wore the finest gloves; his eyes, which sparkled, but coldly. 

She then thought about Sarah’s nightmare. She’d wondered at the time why Theodore had felt the need to tell the children such a brutal truth. It would have been kinder to say Miss Smith had been ill, or had an accident. She had no idea whether Theodore had a hand in Miss Smith’s misfortune, and therefore could not judge him for it; she could, however, judge him for causing undue distress to poor innocents.

Of course, not one hint of these thoughts crossed Aziraphale’s face as she laughed and smiled up at him. Despite her current appearance, she was not weak, and she was not entirely stupid. She knew that she must continue to appear so, however, until she could get to the bottom of this mystery. The safety of everyone in the household, not to mention the emotional stability of a certain demon, were at stake.

Theodore continued to stand over her with an expectant look on his face. He’d brought her the jelly, she’d thanked him, and now, rather than leaving her to her charges as a gentleman should, he clearly seemed determined to stay. She glanced at the children, then back at him, and cleared her throat. This did not give him a moment’s pause, however.

“Miss Fell, you must be glad to be back in the presence of an old friend. It must be rather lonely for a governess, I imagine, so it’s gratifying to know you have someone familiar to share confidences with.” The man’s gaze was blank and cool.

Aziraphale paused, then queried in the most naive tone she could manage: “A friend, Sir?” Aziraphale felt a coldness growing in her chest.

“I’ve already told you, you must call me Theodore. Now, really, Miss Fell, hadn’t you already been acquainted with good old Crowley before you joined our house? Although I do wonder why you two haven’t let on. Certainly I would never whisper any secrets to dear papa,” Theodore stood gazing down at her with a countenance that contained only the barest hint of smugness, and a great deal of what seemed to be attempted camaraderie. 

_ Crowley was right about someone listening _ , thought Aziraphale. _ I should have trusted her. _

Aziraphale continued looking at him, wearing what she hoped was a confused expression. She decided to use an old trick, one that’d been useful in quite a few situations, but that she’d often found eminently difficult to carry off. She simply remained silent, then widened her eyes a bit, letting her clear gaze fall on Theodore for as long as he could stand it.

She felt gratified when, after a pause, she saw the tiniest of nervous tics appear near his eye.

“I’d love to share all of your confidences, Miss Fell, please do feel that you are safe with me. I would be more than happy to bring you more jelly, or … well, you simply must tell me what it is you desire most. Or perhaps I should ask a certain housekeeper?”

Aziraphale felt anger flare inside her chest where the coldness had been a moment before. She began to truly understand now why Crowley had been so terrified. She suspected that Theodore was one of those poor human souls that needed to manipulate others as a form of fun, at best, and a method to get what he wanted, at worst. 

“I’m afraid,” Aziraphale said at length, and slowly, “that I’m not familiar with the latest fashions in society. I’m sure that your teasing must be part of some game, but I confess I do not understand how to play.” She cast her eyes down meekly.

There was no response, so she flicked her eyes back up. She saw for one instant a twist of frustration on his face before it smoothed back into blankness. She watched as his eyes glanced behind her, and knew she’d lost this particular round when his expression turned to a sneer.

He laughed: it was a dark, brittle, sordid thing. “Miss Fell, imagine what your future might be if Sir Enfield were to be made aware of any … suspicions of untoward conduct. It’s a simple enough game; you help me with something, and your secrets are safe with me. I’ll give you until tomorrow to think it over.” The man bowed stiffly and returned to his horse. He mounted it and spurred it past her in the direction of the stables.

Aziraphale turned to look behind her. In the distance, she saw Crowley, wringing her hands and watching in terror.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Crowley knew it was time to act, and act fast. She did not know what dialogue had transpired between Theodore and Aziraphale, but she remembered what Miss Smith had whispered as she'd sobbed in Crowley’s arms, burned and bleeding. _ I should never had dithered _ , thought Crowley. _ It’s not as if Hell will care. His soul already belongs to them. _

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Back inside, sitting with the children while they ate their dinner, Aziraphale’s thoughts whirled. The young man held no true danger to her, no matter what Crowley imagined. However, she assumed that her predecessor would have not been so fortunate. The poor Miss Smith likely had no other option besides working as a governess. And if Theodore had played the same type of game with Miss Smith that he’d initiated with Aziraphale, there was little wonder the poor woman came to a bad end.

_ I must determine a way to put off Theodore _ , thought Aziraphale. She remembered Heaven’s instruction: _ by any means necessary. _ Of course, that applied to Sir Enfield, but … Aziraphale shrugged.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

If any decent medical men resided nearby, they were about to be confounded by a most peculiar case. One young man was about to develop two separate illnesses; neither of which should have been found anywhere near North Yorkshire.


	7. Chapter 7

The next morning, Crowley marched into Sir Enfield’s rooms and informed him that Theodore appeared to be very ill. He had been found unresponsive in bed, feverish and muttering nonsense. Before the Baronet could respond, Crowley suggested Theodore be removed to another wing of the house so that he might not infect the children.

“Good Lord, Crowley, have you not moved him already? Must you really wait for me to make such a decision? Of course, move the boy, have him moved immediately.” Sir Enfield’s annoyance was tempered by his alarm. “Did he speak to anyone yesterday? Is it possible he’s already spread the contagion?”

Crowley, remembering the pretty garden scene she’d witnessed yesterday, spoke harshly. “He brought Miss Fell something, I believe, Sir Enfield. Likely the quince jelly she mentioned a few days ago.”

The man appeared about to lose his breakfast.

“Of course, I’ve already seen Miss Fell this morning, and she looked completely healthy.”

The man’s face showed relief, then concern again. “You don’t think that the jelly he brought … do you think it could harm Miss Fell?” 

Crowley paused, remembering the way Aziraphale had laughed in pleasure at the gift, and the way Theodore had kissed her hand. “It would be safest to have it destroyed, sir,” she said grimly. 

“Well see to it, Crowley, and quickly,” the man dismissed her with an impatient wave.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Aziraphale was in the library, trying to read to the children while at the same time trying to keep young Allen from taunting his sisters with a spider. She startled when the door banged open and Crowley barged into the room. A housemaid trailed behind her.

Crowley towered over them, and spoke in her most formidable tone. “Children, Dora will be watching you for some time while I speak with Miss Fell. You will behave for her, or you will not enjoy what happens when we return. Is that understood?”

Aziraphale gawked, as did the children.

“Miss Fell, if you please,” Crowley indicated with a jerk of her chin that the angel should follow her. Aziraphale glanced at the children, smiled reassuringly, and complied without a word. She followed Crowley through the house until they finally stepped outside the back door. Crowley drew her by the arm to a spot mid-way between the house and stables.

“Do you still have it, or did you eat it all already?” Crowley was nearly hissing. “Throw it into the fire, if there is any left. Theodore is gravely ill, feverish and delirious. Sir Enfield believes the jelly could infect you as well, and he insists you remove it from the house.”

Aziraphale stared at the demon, her lips forming a soundless ‘oh’ before she finally spoke. “I do have it still, but … of course it couldn’t really harm me, Crowley.”

“Aziraphale, would you please listen to me? You don’t need to be eating it anyway.”

“And that’s for you to decide, is it, Crowley? Why is it that ever since I arrived, you’ve been so dreadful about what I eat? At first I thought you were just play-acting for the others so they would fear you, but now I wonder if you’re truly trying to punish me for something.”

Crowley let loose a loud screech of irritation. Aziraphale looked around nervously, wondering if anyone was in the stables and whether they might have heard it.

Crowley was nearly shouting now. “Is your blessed stomach more important to you than the children’s safety? You don’t know what kind of illness Theodore might have. Are you really going to risk infecting the household because you can’t resist something tasty on your tongue?”

Aziraphale felt terribly guilty at that, and decided it was best to confess.

“Well, actually, I rather do know what kind of illness Theodore has … I mean, it isn’t catching, at all, and shouldn’t hurt him, really, it’s just … well, I needed some time to think and he was intent on playing some ridiculous game and …”

Crowley interrupted. “ _ You _ made him ill?”

Aziraphale blushed. “Well, really, Crowley, you’re the one that’s been scaring me half to death about danger in the house, so is it my fault that I may have given him a mild case of a parasitic fever in order to put him off?”

Crowley blinked, several times. Then she snickered.

“ _ Crowley _ , it’s not funny! I intentionally made a man ill!” Aziraphale’s guilt was not sitting easily.

“Oh, Angel. It is a bit funny. Parasitic fever, really? You thought that would keep him at bay?” Crowley’s snickers turned into full-blown laughter. “Whatever will Heaven say to that, hmmm?” Crowley’s eyes were dancing with mischief, now.

Aziraphale felt herself losing patience with the demon. “Well, it’s  _ horrible _ , and I really don’t understand what could have gone wrong, since he should only be experiencing a stomach complaint. Are you sure that his condition hasn’t been exaggerated?” Aziraphale was on the verge of going to find the man to clear up the point.

Crowley stopped her with a hand and a guilty look. “Trust me, Angel, he is truly ill. I also may have … well. It seems we were of one mind, this time.”

Aziraphale looked at her for several moments before speaking again, a trifle wearily. “Crowley — hadn’t you better tell me everything, starting from the beginning?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Prior to the night of Miss Smith’s breakdown, Crowley had noticed a particular quirk of Theodore’s. He’d seemed to know things that most gentlemen were oblivious to. Such as when Miss Smith’s half-day was scheduled, or that Daisy hated peas. Crowley had tucked her observation away as harmless knowledge; perhaps he accumulated useless facts out of boredom. Certainly that would not be unusual for a young man of his class. Crowley had even spared him a smile when he’d showed up one evening with cocoa brought from the village, after she’d forgotten to order it. She had admired his rather striking appearance at the time, and perhaps even enjoyed the attention he’d paid her, before he turned to chuck the plump young Daisy under the chin.

Her opinion of the man had pivoted sharply after she’d found the poor Miss Smith lying on the floor of her room, half aflame and screaming. Crowley’d used a miracle to douse the flames, then another to ease the poor woman’s suffering. Perhaps that’s how Miss Smith had the strength to whisper in Crowley’s ear as the demon held her and told her that she was safe, now.

“He said the only way to escape hellfire was to burn myself in penance,” the woman had whispered. “Do you think it’s enough? I pray to God that it’s enough,” the woman had sobbed, then. 

Every hackle on Crowley’s neck had risen. She had wondered if the woman had lost all reason, but asked: “ _ Who _ said that to you?”

The woman’s eyes had looked truly dead, then; of course she would have been, if not for Crowley’s intervention. “Teddy said I must pay for my sin, he said Satan was waiting for me, unless ...”

Crowley’d held her closer, then. “Miss Smith, my dear, no, that’s not — you couldn’t have committed any sins worth that.”

Miss Smith’s eyes were still empty. “I’ve killed, for the sake of him, Crowley. I am damned. I wanted to keep my sister safe—”

Crowley’d started trembling then, and the woman’s voice had dulled to a soft hiss while she slipped into unconsciousnes.

Crowley had realized, while relating the entire sordid story to Aziraphale, that the angel’s reactions to hearing the events were markedly calmer than her own had been to living them.

Crowley felt the angel wasn’t looking as horrified as was warranted, so she continued. “He’s watching us, Angel. He’s watching all of us, looking for secrets or weaknesses that he can probe and use to manipulate us to his schemes. To murder, even. I do not know how, but he is.”

Aziraphale moved forward and placed a hand on Crowley’s arm. She spoke softly.

“Crowley, I agree he does seem a truly horrible man. But we’ve survived worse, haven’t we? I am not sure I understand why he’s inspired such terror in you.”

Crowley goggled at her, and felt the rising swell of anger alongside the terror. “There are three defenseless children here, Angel. Surely you cannot be so cruel as to leave them to that man’s games?” 

“I’ve no intention of leaving them at all, Crowley. For now, I suggest you keep Theodore incapacitated until we can discover who he has recruited to spy on us.” The angel paused. “Now, I should get back to the children. I will destroy the jelly, Crowley, since it bothers you so much, although I confess I still do not understand why.” 

Crowley groaned as the angel started to walk away.  _ There is still danger here _ , she thought.

“Angel, wait a moment,” she called. She made a decision quickly, and reached out a hand to Aziraphale, which was now holding a white coral choker. “Wear this, Angel. For protection. Please.”

“Crowley,” Aziraphale sighed. “I promise you, I am safe.”

Crowley trembled and whispered, still holding the choker out. “Please, Angel. Don’t reduce me to begging.”

Aziraphale nodded, finally, and with a snap the choker was suddenly clasped around her neck.

“Thank, you, Angel,” breathed Crowley. “Thank you for that. Now go see to the children, please.”  _ And leave me to gather myself _ , she thought.

Aziraphale gazed at her softly for a moment before turning to walk away.


	8. Chapter 8

The remainder of Crowley’s day was consumed by arrangements surrounding Theodore’s illness. Crowley sent James to fetch a physician, mainly because she knew the man wouldn’t go out of his way to find a good one. Theodore had treated James’ beloved horses recklessly far too many times for the older man to be overly concerned about his well-being.

She chose a sickroom far from the rest of the family, and enlisted Jack and Dora’s help in readying it. They removed dust covers, knocked down spiderwebs, and made the bed with fresh bedclothes. Crowley checked the fireplace, and noted with some satisfaction that it would most likely keep the room cloaked with a light amount of smoke. Not terribly dangerous, but perhaps irritating to a lung complaint, if such a thing were to present itself in the invalid.

Once the room was ready, Crowley sent Dora back to her duties and Jack to find a couple of strong footmen capable of moving a large human. After they had left Crowley alone in the room, she made quick work of installing one of her ‘eyes.’ It was an oval disc no bigger than her hand, and looked like any ordinary pond stone. With just the right sigils carved into its face, however, it became a magickal device, capable of monitoring all activity in a room. The best thing about it was its ability to send written reports directly to her account book. The worst thing was that Aziraphale disapproved of this particular type of demonic magick quite strongly.

_ Desperate times, _ thought Crowley. She checked her account book daily, but so far had been unable to suss out the identity of the spy. Or spies, if Theodore was as talented at manipulating poor souls as she suspected. With a flick of her wrist, she muttered a phrase intended to ensure he would not become conscious anytime soon. A second phrase, muttered with more than a hint of spite, ensured the bed would provide no comfort at all to an extremely ill human.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Aziraphale was out near the stables with the children. Allen had begged to be allowed to pet one of the horses, and of course that meant the girls wanted to do so as well. Aziraphale could not deny them, but she had no interest in being near any horse herself. That was how she came to be standing several yards away from them, watching the children laugh as a groomsman fed one of the beasts a carrot, when she saw Jack passing by. He wore an unusual look on his face.

“Jack,” she motioned him over. “Has anything more happened? You look worried, that’s why I ask.”

Jack shook his head and shoved his hands behind him. “N-no, Miss Fell. Jus’ came from helpin’ Crowley clean up a room for Mr. Theodore.” The young man appeared flustered, and Aziraphale guessed she knew the reason.

“It’s kind of you to help Crowley, I am sure she appreciates it. She just mentioned to me earlier how improved you were in performing your duties.”  _ It’s just a little lie, _ thought Aziraphale.

The boy flushed, and tried not to look extraordinarily pleased. Aziraphale glanced at the children, saw they were still entranced by the horse, and drew Jack a bit further away.

“Jack, I wonder, since you’ve been here longer than I have … have you noticed any odd happenings lately? Crowley mentioned the other day that she was worried about strangers drifting around … ” Aziraphale knew she was being manipulative, and that the boy probably had no information, but she was ready to try anything if it might calm the demon.

To her surprise, she saw dampness begin to form in the corners of Jack’s eyes. “Aye, Miss Fell, Strange times lately. My own cousin Ada, found dead in the woods on her way home from the village only last month.” She saw a panic beginning to form in the young man’s face. “Oh, I should not have told, Miss Fell, my family said to keep it down, as my cousin … well, she was in some trouble. Please don’t tell anyone Miss Fell. I only spoke up in fearin’ for Crowley.” Jack clamped his mouth shut, suddenly realizing how much he’d given away.

Aziraphale whispered calming words to him. “I won’t tell, Jack, at least not unless it’s to help find the person responsible. Did Ada … do you know what happened?”

Jack shook his head. “Not for certain, Miss Fell. My family say she was most likely poisoned. They believe it’s the man that did her wrong that killed her, and my uncle says it’s just as well.” The poor boy was desperately trying to blink away tears. Aziraphale felt guilty that she’d caused him pain, but immensely glad that she had another piece of information. She decided a small miracle was in order, to help assuage her own guilt, and to ease Jack in his grief. It only took a few seconds before the young man’s face looked remarkably calmer.

“Thank you for speaking with me, Jack, and I’m truly sorry about your cousin. I’d best get back to the children. Please,don’t be afraid to tell me or Crowley if you notice anything else that seems strange.”

The young man nodded, brow furrowed, and hurried off to find the demon for his next instruction.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Crowley listened as the medical man explained that he must be allowed to visit the patient every morning and evening for bloodletting.  _ Sounds excellent to me, _ she thought.

“I will inform Sir Enfield. He is most insistent that all available treatments be attempted.” Crowley knew that all available treatments belonging to this man would likely only serve to hasten Theodore’s untimely end.

“Of course, of course,” the man minced. “Please leave me to it, and if you can spare someone from your staff for nursing purposes, that would be most helpful.”

“I’ll see to it immediately,” Crowley said, and left the man to his devices. She glanced at the tools in his kit and shuddered despite herself. It all seemed a bit too torturous, even for a demon.

Crowley turned and hastened from the room. She made her way back to the kitchen, deciding that the question of a nurse could wait until tomorrow. She’d ask the servants at breakfast if there were any volunteers. She hoped, with a rather resigned sigh, that someone would step forward so she didn’t have to assign anyone the task. The staff already hated her, no need to foment a riot.

As she entered the kitchen, she heard the usual scrubbing coming from the sink, along with something else — Daisy was sniffling and whimpering while she worked. Crowley stopped, surprised that the girl hadn’t heard her enter the room.

“Daisy?” Crowley’s voice cut through the maid’s tears, and the girl turned around with a gasp. She quickly lifted her apron to swipe it over her face.

“Yes Crowley?” Her voice quavered and she looked down at her shoes.

“Daisy, whatever is the matter?” Crowley had never noticed the maid displaying any sensitivity before, and the girl’s tears had thrown her.

“Is Mr. Theodore going to be ... will he …” Daisy hiccoughed and spluttered.

_ Could it be Theodore’s been at his games with this one, too?  _ Crowley watched the poor girl cry over a young man that desperately didn’t deserve her concern. “The physician is with him now, Daisy. I’ve just come from the sickroom. I’ll need to find someone to help nurse, but I’ve no idea yet if he’s in danger.”

Daisy blinked then pressed her palms together, as if in supplication. “Oh, I could help, Crowley, if you please. I nursed my own aunt from near death, I know what to do.”

Crowley wasn’t sure what to think. A scullery maid was the lowest-ranked servant in the household, so it was possible Daisy was simply trying for something better. Crowley couldn’t judge her for that. But, was it wise to let the young woman care for that fiend?  _ Since when do demons care about wisdom? _

Crowley shrugged, finally. “If you want to take on the responsibility, it’s yours. Dora won’t be happy at having to scrub pots, however, so you’d best break it to her gently.” 

Daisy’s face lit up, and she looked nearly  _ angelic _ for a moment. Crowley was stunned at how fetching the girl truly was. “Oh  _ thank you _ Crowley. I’ll take good care of the young master and tell Dora too, don’t you worry.”

_ Too late for that _ , thought Crowley.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Aziraphale had left the girls asleep in their beds, with Dora to stand guard, while she went to her formerly shared room with Crowley to change into a nightdress. Or rather, to wait for Crowley, who was still insistent that Aziraphale needed her help changing into a nightdress. While the angel waited, she fondled the choker at her throat gently, pondering whether wearing a demon’s protection spell would get her in a great deal of trouble with her superiors.

Crowley entered the room at last, then carefully closed and locked the door behind her. She leaned against the door, and gazed at Aziraphale for a moment.

“What is it, Crowley? Did something else happen?” Aziraphale longed to tell the demon about her discussion with Jack, but knew it had to wait until they were sure they were alone.

Crowley shook her head, then advanced to begin what had become their nightly ritual. She was moving slowly tonight, taking her time with each button. Aziraphale stood with her back to the demon, and thought she felt the lightest press of the choker against her neck. As if Crowley had started to unclasp it. The necklace remained, however, until the angel was dressed in her gown and ready for bed.

Aziraphale still stood with her back to Crowley, who was making no move to remove the choker. “Crowley,” she murmured, “can I take this off, now?”

Crowley breathed in deeply, before whispering: “What if I said no, Angel?”

Aziraphale turned to look at her, then.

“Crowley? Surely I’ll be safe enough with the entire house asleep?” Aziraphale couldn’t see behind those blessed spectacles to get a look at Crowley’s eyes.

Crowley stood, silent and … something finally settled in Aziraphale’s memory.

_ That moment, outside, after we were arguing. When Crowley reached out a hand, holding the necklace … I sensed it. I was too annoyed to notice it at the time, but it was there. _

Aziraphale touched the coral beads that clung to her neck. “Oh, Crowley,” she whispered.


	9. Chapter 9

Aziraphale laid in bed, listening to the soft, sleepy breathing of Sarah and Mary. She kept lifting her hand to touch the coral beads that remained at her throat, as if they might disappear at any moment.

She hadn’t known what to say to Crowley after the demon asked her not to remove the necklace. After Aziraphale had realized that there was love behind the gift, she’d stood, waiting for some word or look or movement from the demon, about what they should do next. 

All she’d gotten was “Best get to bed now, Angel.” And so Aziraphale had shuffled from the room, unable yet again to do anything other than acquiesce to her demon.

_ She’s not my demon,  _ she thought while she laid there.  _ Why am I taking orders from a demon anyway? _ But even as she thought it, she knew the reason. It wasn’t just a demon, it was  _ Crowley _ . Aziraphale couldn’t find it in her heart to deny Crowley something that seemed so important to her. And now that Aziraphale had sensed  _ love _ coming from the demon … well, things would change, wouldn’t they?

Aziraphale turned to her side and began to pray. She’d not spoken to God for a long time, and lately God hadn’t been answering much. But still, Aziraphale prayed. She confessed that she didn’t know what to do, and if God could tell her whether returning the love proffered by a demon was permitted, it would be most appreciated.

God was, as usual, silent on the matter.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Crowley stepped into her office the next morning with a burning pain in her heart. Not that this was a particularly new sensation, but it had been stronger than she was used to, lately.  _ It’s Thursday _ , she thought to herself, realizing that she and Aziraphale should by all rights have the afternoon to themselves. She’d planned to take the angel to the village, and use the time it took to walk there in discussing everything about their current predicament.

Now she wondered if it would even be possible. With Theodore ill, and Daisy nursing, the staff would be stretched thin. And after last night, Crowley wasn’t sure if she could even face the angel. She’d seen the realization on Aziraphale’s face, and guessed that her secret was — finally — discovered. Crowley didn’t think she could tolerate the pity she’d no doubt see in Aziraphale’s face from now on.

She opened her account book with a groan. She glanced over the pages, noting nothing strange, until she reached the last page.  _ Sickroom _ , it said at the top, and she read over the report of her own interactions with the doctor. She read about the gruesome treatment he’d applied after she’d left the room and twisted her lips in distaste. Then, her breath caught as she read on.

_ Physician leaves room. Scullery maid enters room. Maid kisses man in bed. Maid speaks: ‘Teddy, won’t you get well for me, I’ve done everything you asked, please don’t leave me here in this place alone.’ _

There was more, but Crowley’d read enough.  _ Daisy _ . Crowley knew that she had a piece of the puzzle here. And she knew that she needed to talk to Aziraphale about it.  _ Let the old git’s manor fall to pieces for one day _ , she thought.  _ We must get away from here this afternoon and talk. _

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Crowley and Aziraphale walked together toward the village, silently putting distance between themselves and the house behind them. Crowley had left Jack and Dora with instructions for the evening that were intended to lighten the load as much as possible for the staff. 

The tension that had settled between them last night was still there, but Crowley decided to ignore it for now. There were more pressing concerns.

“I believe Daisy may be one of our spies,” Crowley announced. She saw the angel’s head lift in surprise.

“Little Daisy? But she seems harmless.” Aziraphale’s eyes were wide and she seemed to doubt Crowley’s judgment for a moment.

“Sounds odd for you to be calling anyone little, Angel.” Crowley smirked a bit. “Regardless, the girl has shown her hand and it seems she and Theodore had a relationship in the past. She’s offered to nurse the man.” She turned from Aziraphale’s questioning look. “I’ve spies of my own, angel, so trust me on this.”

Crowley watched as the Angel’s face showed anger, then disapproval, then finally resignation. Aziraphale nodded in understanding.

“I’ve little doubt that Theodore had her spying on the staff, based on what type of information he’d been able to gather. As to what information he may have had on Miss Smith, I do not know.” Crowley pondered how the meek former governess could have fallen under Theodore’s spell.

“There’s something I’ve found out, too, Crowley,” Aziraphale interjected. “I spoke to Jack yesterday, and discovered that his poor cousin was found dead in the woods outside the village a month ago.”

Crowley stopped still at that. “Jack’s cousin?” She felt a wave of shame cover her from the crown of her head down to her feet. “Oh, the poor boy,” she moaned. She clutched at her middle, feeling absolutely grief-stricken at the way she’d treated Jack while he was in the midst of a family tragedy.

Aziraphale stepped up to her and put her hands softly on the demon’s shoulders. “Crowley,” she said, “he’ll be fine. Maybe not immediately, but he will survive. Please don’t use this as an excuse to treat him with kid gloves, Crowley. I was not meant to repeat the story.”

Crowley sniffed and nodded, and gathered herself. It was odd how one simple touch from Aziraphale could calm her so. “So, perhaps … “ whispered Crowley, “Jack’s cousin was a target of one of Theodore’s schemes, and he managed to convince Miss Smith to help him …” Crowley broke off.

“It’s possible, Crowley,” said Aziraphale. “The poor girl was expecting a child, it seemed, and her family suspects the father poisoned her to escape the responsibility.”

Crowley looked at her intently. “Aziraphale… I think it’s best if that man never wakes up.”

This time, Aziraphale did not question or argue the point.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Once they reached the village, Aziraphale let Crowley lead her to the general store. It was dark inside, full of odd bits of merchandise that looked immensely interesting. Aziraphale was looking around when she heard Crowley greet the shopkeeper.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Waybright. May I have a bag of sugared almonds, please?”

Aziraphale looked up, startled, even as her mouth began to water.

Of course, Mrs. Crowley.” The man was genial and had a friendly twinkle in his eye. “Would this be the new governess, then?” He bobbed his head at Aziraphale.

“This is Miss Fell. We are grateful to have her.” Crowley’s eyes seemed to be focused on the almonds as the man filled up a bag. Finally, he folded the top shut and handed it to Crowley. She dropped a coin in his hand.

“Pleased to meet you, Miss Fell.” Aziraphale quite liked his broad, open face. “I’m glad you were able to arrive so quickly after Miss Smith was … “ Here the man seemed at a loss for words.

“I’m happy to be here, Mr. Waybright.” Aziraphale smiled at him and his face seemed to light up.

“Please let me know if there’s anything you may need that we don’t stock. I can order in just about anything you like. Although,” he scratched his cheek, thinking. “I hope your problem with rats has been resolved, because it’s been more difficult lately to get arsenic in.”

Aziraphale stared at the man, and noticed Crowley gawking at him as well.

“Rat ... problem?” Crowley croaked.

“Oh yes, Miss Smith … poor dear … was in here awhile back buying quite a bit of the stuff. Said you’d forgotten it in your weekly order. Must be hard to keep the rats out of such a big house, too.” The man looked sympathetic. “Seems some have been using the poison for more nefarious reasons, and it’s getting more difficult to obtain, what with it raising suspicions.” He frowned a bit, as if he couldn’t comprehend how anyone would think of such a thing.

“Indeed,” was all Crowley managed. She turned on her her heel and stalked out the door, pulling Aziraphale with her by the elbow.

“Good day to you, Sir,” squeaked Aziraphale as she was carried away.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Crowley fumed for half the walk back home. Aziraphale tried to keep up with the demon’s long angry strides, but her legs were too short and she kept running out of breath. Finally she called out in frustration.

“Crowley, please slow down! I can’t keep up with you when you walk so quickly.” Crowley turned to the angel, saw her reddened, perspiring face, and felt immediately remorseful. 

She stopped walking. “I’m sorry, Angel. I’m just … boggled at that man’s evil.”

“Crowley, really, we lived through ancient Rome. He’s hardly the most evil creature we’ve encountered.” Aziraphale seemed flustered and was still panting.

Crowley just sighed. She didn’t know how to explain to Aziraphale just what kind of fear had settled into her heart when she’d first saw the angel in this new form. Crowley had already been dealing with her growing feelings of tenderness for the children, and the arrival of Aziraphale had fanned the flames of her protectiveness to a roar.

Aziraphale spoke again. “I want to help you, though, Crowley. I truly do. I want to stay here as long as it takes to make sure the children are safe. To make sure you are safe.”

Crowley snorted at that. “At least until Heaven comes calling, you mean.” She turned her head away from the angel. She cursed her eyes for the tears that had started to appear.

“Crowley, I … I am trying to find out if we can … if I can … well. I am trying to find some answers. I do not want to leave you alone here.”

Crowley knew this was likely as much as Aziraphale was willing to give, now. She nodded sadly, looking down at the bag in her hand. She noted, out of the corner of her eye, Aziraphale eyeing it, too.

“Are you going to eat those, Crowley,” Aziraphale asked hopefully.

“Am I? No.” Crowley responded firmly. She felt slightly guilty watching the struggle on the angel’s face, but she wanted to hear the words. She wanted Aziraphale to ask.

The angel held out her hand. “Could I try one, Crowley? Please?”

Crowley smirked a bit, then opened the bag. She took an almond out, and lifted it between her fingers. “Open up,” she said, and huffed at the way the angel’s eyes widened.

“Crowley!” The demon couldn’t tell whether Aziraphale was irritated or amused.

“You can have as many as you want, Angel, as long as I get to feed them to you,” murmured Crowley. She held her breath, waiting to see how Aziraphale would respond.

Crowley still couldn’t read the look on the angel’s face. Finally, her lips parted enough to allow Crowley to drop the treat on Aziraphale’s tiny pink tongue.

Crowley’s heart skipped a beat when she saw the angel’s lips curve upwards and her eyes close in pure delight. 


	10. Chapter 10

Friday morning brought a renewed determination in Aziraphale to resolve the problems that she’d found in this house, once and for all. She told herself that she wanted the house safe for the children. But in truth, Aziraphale wanted to make things safe for Crowley. She kept remembering her walk home from the village with the demon. How Crowley would stop every now and then to drop another delicious almond into Aziraphale’s mouth. 

At first, Aziraphale thought that Crowley had been having a bit of fun, teasing her because of the angel’s fondness for sweets. The angel had smiled, and giggled, and enjoyed the game. Then after a few bites it had turned … different. She’d heard the catch of the demon’s breath when her hand had brushed Aziraphale’s chin. Crowley had just stared at her for a moment, resting her hand on Aziraphale’s cheek, then had brushed a thumb across her lips. Aziraphale had looked up, trying to peer through those spectacles, and had touched the necklace again. It had nearly become a compulsion.

Aziraphale had felt it then, the thing inside herself that scared her sometimes. It was a wildness. A twisting thing in her middle that felt like it was coiled. She’d allowed herself to imagine for one instant that she and Crowley were together. Together, free to do as they pleased, free to ignore the threats of Heaven and Hell. Simply free, and Aziraphale knew if that were to happen she’d likely never leave her demon’s side and that thought _ scared _ her so much that she always shoved it down into a dark corner of her soul that should not have even existed.

Crowley must have seen it in her eyes, because the demon had pulled her hand back sharply and turned away. She’d picked up her long strides again, and Aziraphale had had no choice but to trail along behind her. The rest of their walk home had been silent.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Crowley decided that, essentially, the only move left was to wait. For the situation in the house to resolve itself, and for the angel to decide whether she’d stay or go. Theodore was dying, nearly dead, and once he was gone, Daisy would need to be dealt with. Past that -- past that, Crowley had no thoughts. Either Aziraphale would stay here, or she wouldn’t. 

Crowley’d made her feelings known; maybe not in so many words. But the angel knew. And Crowley was certain that if it came down to a choice between Heaven and one solitary demon, Aziraphale would not hesitate to turn her back on Crowley for good. It had been a risk to reveal herself, but the demon couldn’t see that she had any moves left to play. She’d been hiding her love for hundreds and hundreds of years, and was tired. If Aziraphale wouldn’t accept her love, then there were three children here that would.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Aziraphale found a housemaid and apologetically persuaded her to stay with the children for half an hour. Aziraphale did not want Crowley to do it, simply because she did not want the demon to know what she was planning. The housemaid was happy enough to sit in the library with the children rather than endlessly dusting candlesticks. Aziraphale left them there, promising them that she would not be gone long. 

The angel found a hiding spot that ensured she would not be seen by any staff, then miracled herself to the far end of the house. She hadn’t been to this wing yet, and wasn’t quite sure how close she’d end up to the sickroom.

As it happened, she landed right in the middle of it.

She was shocked by her own luck, then wondered if it had been a bit more than that. Perhaps God had heard a few of her prayers, after all.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Crowley was making her daily report to Sir Enfield about Theodore’s condition when she heard a loud screeching sound, increasing in volume by the second. It sounded not unlike a banshee running at full speed down the hallway outside the room. Crowley’s throat constricted and it took every bit of her willpower to maintain her human form. She turned to stare at the door, as if waiting for whatever it was to come and find her and drag her back down to Hell.

Sir Enfield blanched, then jumped up from his chair and tightened his robe around himself.

“Crowley, don’t simply stand there, woman, _ go out there and find out what is that dreadful noise, _” he shouted. He crouched down, grabbed the sheet from the bed, and wrapped it around himself, as if it would protect him. The Baronet cursed at her as he began to wriggle his way under the bed.

Crowley took off her spectacles, looked him full in the eyes, and hissed at him. The man promptly fainted. She allowed one half-second to feel satisfaction before she leapt for the door.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Aziraphale strolled back into the library, all dimples and rosy cheeks. The children greeted her with hugs and smiles as if they hadn’t just seen her half an hour ago. She looked each of them in the eye, including the housemaid, and announced: “I’m so glad I’ve spent every moment of my morning in this room with all of you.” 

Their looks changed from confusion to happiness faster than the time it took to eat a sugared almond. Everyone, from the maid on down to little Sarah, agreed that it _ had _ been a most enjoyable morning they’d all spent together.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Crowley followed the screeching until she found Daisy in her room, wildly stuffing her belongings into a valise. The girl _ jumped _ when Crowley walked in.

_ “Stay away from me!” _ Daisy screamed, eyes round and full of a terror that Crowley understood at a soul level. _ “This house is cursed!” _

Crowley simply looked at her, calmly, for a moment. “Are you giving notice, then, Daisy?”

_ “I’m giving nothing to anyone in this wretched house ever again, and I wish my blasted sister had never brought me here!” _Daisy was still screaming, begging the Lord for safety as she ran through the house, out the back door, and away from them all.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Crowley found the physician sitting on the floor of the sickroom. He still clutched the bloodletting knife in his hand. His eyes were glazed over, he trembled continuously, and did not respond to the demon’s attempts to rouse him.

Theodore was lying on the bed, quite thoroughly dead.

Sometime before the physician finally came back to his senses, Crowley noticed a pristine white feather lying on the floor at the end of Theodore’s bed. And since she was the only one in the room -- at least the only one with any sense in her head at the moment -- she laughed and laughed until her stomach hurt from it.

Once she’d finished laughing, she picked the feather up and put it in her apron pocket for a souvenir.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Aziraphale’s report to Heaven that week mentioned that, although she’d given a man a mild stomach ailment, she’d done it with the purpose of steering him -- quite a bad character -- away from Sir Enfield. The stomach ailment had turned out to be unnecessary, however, as the man had contracted a completely independent illness that had rendered him near death. Out of consideration for the ill man’s soul, she’d appeared at his deathbed in her true form to encourage his repentance and thereby bring about his salvation. Her status report also mentioned that, unfortunately, her efforts did not appear to have succeeded. Although, it must be said that a bad influence had been removed from Sir Enfield’s home, and wasn’t that why she’d been sent here to begin with?


	11. Chapter 11

The following few days were rather chaotic for Crowley, what with making funeral arrangements and doing without a scullery maid on top of it all.

Sir Enfield blubbered and whimpered more than Crowley thought was truly necessary. He blamed it on the loss of his beloved son, Theodore. But Crowley rather suspected that the man was simply terrified. She wondered if he remembered anything at all from the moments before he’d passed out on the floor of his room. At least his demeanor toward her had shifted from demanding and childish to meek and nearly witless. Crowley found the shift most satisfactory.

Daisy did not show back up to the house. James told Crowley that he’d seen her sprinting toward the village as if the devil were at her heels. The old man chuckled and winked at Crowley, then walked to the stables in a manner far jauntier than was strictly appropriate, considering the circumstances.

The physician had been sent off with a substantial payment. The man hadn’t uttered a word from the moment Crowley found him sitting on the floor of the sickroom until the moment James had settled him on his horse. Crowley doubted he’d speak any words to anyone for quite some time, and she was certain that no words would ever pass his lips considering what he’d seen at the Baronet’s manor house that day. Physicians rather staked their livelihood on being considered sane.

The children were, naturally, upset at yet another loss in their lives. Crowley felt the most grief about that. _ A mother, a governess, and now an older brother. _ The demon vowed that she’d stay here as long as she could, hoping her constant presence would help offset some of the upheaval they’d had to endure. She could only hope that Aziraphale would be of the same mind.

As for the angel -- no words were exchanged between them for days, other than what was absolutely necessary. Although Crowley detected a gleam in Aziraphale’s eyes once that could have been described as pleased, if one were being charitable, and smug, if one were not.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Aziraphale heard back from her latest report to Heaven. It contained no recriminations, and only encouraged her to continue her work in reforming Sir Enfield. Her assignment here was to be considered indefinite.

_ What in Heaven is so important about that man, _ she thought. Then realized that, yet again, a prayer may have just been answered.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Crowley and Aziraphale stood next to each other at the funeral, slightly behind the children, waiting and watching in case they were needed. Allen’s eyes were reddened but not teary, and Crowley relaxed in consolation that he seemed to be holding steady. 

The younger girls wore appropriately solemn expressions, but did not display emotions beyond that. Theodore had so far been a rather distant figure in their lives, much to Crowley’s relief.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thursday dawned bright and cold, and Aziraphale hoped that the sun would be warmer in the afternoon. She was worried about Crowley’s tendency to become lethargic in the cold. _ Winter may be difficult for her, if she stays here, _ thought the angel. _ She’ll need something to keep her warm. _

Crowley had found a way, yet again, for them to escape from the house for their half-day. It turned out that Jack had a younger sister anxious to find a place, and Crowley’d already brought the girl on staff to replace Daisy. She seemed as responsible as her brother, so far, and it allowed the housekeeper and the governess to walk towards the village with clear consciences.

They spent their walk discussing the events of the week, and agreed that, all things considered, the situation was resolved satisfactorily.

“Do you think there are still spies in the house, Crowley?” Aziraphale asked.

“A house full of servants is a house full of spies, Angel,” Crowley replied. “No doubt Theodore had more individuals wrapped up in his web, but he’s gone now and I’ve no wish to investigate anyone further. Besides, I’m still keeping an eye on things in case of further problems.”

“Must you, Crowley?” Aziraphale asked, feeling a bit worried about some of the whispered prayers she’d been offering recently.

Crowley just glanced at her from the corner of her eye.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Crowley and Aziraphale were stepping out of the general store, a bag of caramels in Crowley’s hand, when they encountered Allen’s tutor passing by. The man tipped his hat to them.

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Crowley, Miss Fell,” he greeted them amiably.

“Good afternoon,” they replied in unison.

“May I just take a moment to thank you both for your work with the children. I am glad that young Allen has such fortunate examples of good character in his life. I believe it will serve him well in what will undoubtedly be a very bright future.” The man smiled at them both in genuine approval.

“Has Allen showed intelligence, then?” Aziraphale sensed an answer to the question she’d been asking since her arrival to the household.

“As much as any young man I’ve tutored, Miss Fell. I’ve rarely seen the like, not even in others years older than him. He will no doubt make a name for himself, perhaps even in Parliament.” The man tipped his hat again. “Well, I’d best be off, I have a letter that must make it into the post. Good day to you both.”

They both murmured goodbyes to him, then looked at each other.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Crowley dropped another caramel into Aziraphale’s mouth. She half wondered why the angel allowed it, but kept offering them at regular intervals throughout the walk home.

Aziraphale was chattering on, in between bites. “Oh Crowley, that must be why we were both sent here. To steer Allen toward a good, upstanding life. A member of Parliament, even?”

“Bah,” sputtered Crowley. “Parliament indeed. Let’s send him into the law.”

“_ Crowley,” _ admonished the angel, “Think what good he could accomplish.”

“Or what mischief,” the demon countered.

“I suppose we’ll just have to wait and see, then. It should be his own decision, naturally.” Aziraphale seemed to be quite sure that her influence would win out.

“Does that mean you’re staying, Angel?”

“Heaven has told me to stay here indefinitely,” Aziraphale replied.

Crowley felt a jolt of elation at that. Then a surge of irritation. Aziraphale hadn’t explicitly rejected her, but hadn’t explicitly rejected Heaven, either. She’d found a compromise, as she was wont to do.

_ Ah well, _ thought the demon. _ At least I’ll have her to myself for awhile. _

Crowley’s elation increased tenfold when she felt Aziraphale reach out to grasp her hand. Their fingers were interlaced for the rest of the walk home.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

_ SIX WEEKS LATER _

One evening, Aziraphale entered the bedroom that Crowley and she had shared so briefly in what seemed a more nervous state than usual. The angel normally showed up about this time to change into her nightdress, so Crowley thought nothing of it until she noticed reddened cheeks and fluttering fingers.

“What’s happened, Angel?” Crowley was immediately concerned for the children.

“Nothing’s happened, Crowley.” Aziraphale couldn’t seem to quite meet the demon’s eyes.

“Well you’re certainly acting as if something is wrong. What is it?” Crowley watched as the angel’s skin flushed an even darker red.

“The girls haven’t had any nightmares in quite some time,” Aziraphale murmured.

“Well there’s certainly nothing wrong with that,” countered Crowley.

“I thought perhaps … if you were willing, that is … I could start staying the nights with you. It _ is _ getting colder, now that winter is on its way.” Aziraphale was positively twitchy.

Crowley thought for a moment. _ Oh _ . Then, again, _ Oh. _

“That’s … fine,” Crowley replied. _ Fine? _

Aziraphale smiled that brilliant smile and Crowley was on her feet. She couldn’t remember how she got there but found herself standing in front of the angel.

She couldn’t have said how her hands came to be gently framing the angel’s face.

And she absolutely couldn’t have explained why her lips were suddenly pressed against Aziraphale’s so firmly.

The only thought that Crowley’s brain could form was: _ Hopefully it’s a long winter _.


	12. Epilogue

Crowley and Aziraphale stayed with the children for years. Of course, as children do, they eventually grew up and no longer had need of a governess, or even the attentions of a benevolent housekeeper.

Eventually, Aziraphale relocated to London, ostensibly so she could keep an eye on Allen’s studies at Cambridge -- from a distance, of course. She didn’t mention to Crowley that she’d received new orders from Heaven that didn’t mention the young man whatsoever. The demon felt the pain of separation keenly, but knew that someone needed to stay and keep an eye on the girls. It would be necessary to screen any potential husbands very carefully.

They kept in touch through letters. Aziraphale would write to explain how she’d saved Allen from his latest college scrape, and Crowley would reply with a description of how’d she’d managed to chase away the most recent suitor.

Sir Enfield finally slipped away from his earthly shell one day, having turned neither very good nor very bad in the end.

James was found one day in the stables, his heart having given out while brushing one of his beloved horses. Crowley felt pleased, if a little disloyal, to discover that he’d been safely escorted up to Heaven.

Once the girls were settled suitably, Crowley decided it was time to retire. Dora took over as housekeeper, and proved to be very efficient at the role.

Jack eventually recovered from his crush. He left the staff to take over management of his family’s farm when his elder brother decided to try his luck in London. He married a young woman with striking red hair.

As the decades, then centuries rolled on, through changing times and changing forms, Aziraphale and Crowley never spoke aloud of  _ their children _ , as they each thought of them. Sometimes, after meeting for lunch, one would press a note into the other’s hand, reading: ‘ _ Sarah’s granddaughter was married last month. The wedding was beautiful.’  _ Or: ‘ _ Allen’s great-grandson is the image of him. He’s doing brilliantly at Oxford.’ _

And in a small box, tucked away in a corner of Aziraphale’s bookshop, a faded coral necklace was always kept safe; a reminder of the purest happiness she’d ever experienced, within Heaven or without.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A great many thanks to all readers, and those who kept me motivated with comments and kudos. I thoroughly enjoyed spending time creating this AU.


End file.
